


Nightmares

by elliex



Category: Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-21
Updated: 2013-09-21
Packaged: 2017-12-27 05:27:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/974970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elliex/pseuds/elliex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the SPN Prompt "Fall"</p><p>Dean and Cas have many reasons to have nightmares. Now, though, they also have each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> I planned to play with the idea of "fall," but this - vignette of sorts? a short? - still turned out differently than I expected. Since I can't seem to make it go in any other direction, here it is.
> 
> I hope it works.

\+ + + +

_“Love, hope, fear, faith - these make humanity; These are its sign and note and character” – Robert Browning_

+

Sometimes, Dean dreams of hell, of sulfur, blood, and fear. The screams and moans of the damned echo in his dreamworld. He cannot escape them now anymore than he could then. 

Metal hooks protrude from his body. Chains devour his soft tissue. He hangs on the rack, and the tension tears the flesh from his bones.

Dean screams for Sam, for God, for death.

But it’s Alistair who comes. “Hello, Dean. Is today the day?”

Dean says no. Alistair’s sharp knife ensures it’s the last word he speaks. 

The demon takes pleasure in breaking Dean apart in every possible way: raping, torturing - slicing and dicing until nothing remains. Yet some facet of Dean manages to pray for nothingness, to dream of escape. 

When he gets a moment of pure darkness and void, he’s simply being reset. He regains consciousness, and once more is whole, in a manner of speaking. 

Then the torture begins anew.

After 10,000 days, Dean surrenders. He descends the rack and picks up Alistair’s knife. He is a first-rate apprentice.

Dean finds comfort in stripping the skin from bodies, in pulling out intestines, in plucking out eyes. He dismantles souls as if they were the fish he’d once cleaned and deboned under Bobby’s watchful eyes. 

The pain he inflicts salves; his humanity curdles like spoiled milk. 

Carved into a new animal, Dean Winchester becomes a thing that his fathers and brother would hunt. 

+

Sometimes, Cas dreams of hell, of sulfur, blood, and fear. He hears the screams and moans of the damned, but that is not what sends chills through his grace.

Cas hears laughter – belly deep and riotous. It erupts from the mouth of the Righteous Man as he hacks into another soul. The black of Dean’s eyes mirrors the corruption that infects him.

Cas is Castiel. The remaining members of his garrison are making their final strategic strike, a costly one in Alistair’s horrific and ghastly hell. 

As his brothers and sisters take on the demons forming a perimeter around Alistair’s star pupil, Castiel works his way to Dean. 

At his approach, Dean drops his tools and stares at him in open-mouthed disbelief. 

“I don’t understand,” he says.

“We are here to save you,” Castiel replies. The fighting draws closer, and Castiel grabs Dean’s left arm and, one-handed, pulls him out of hell. 

Castiel puts Dean Winchester back together again, freckles and all. He removes the demonic taint, though he leaves the memories. He was ordered to; heaven may need leverage, after all. 

In his dreamworld, Castiel hears Hester’s voice, yelling at Dean: _the very touch of you corrupts._

Castiel becomes a different kind of angel: a fallible one resurrected by his Father despite those shortcomings, one who puts humanity above all else. 

One who becomes that which he protected.

Transformed into something new, Cas becomes a thing that his brothers and sisters hunt. 

+

Before, Dean’s nightmares woke him suddenly. His hands grasping empty air, his heart pounding, his breathing shallow.

Sometimes Sam was there, and he would grab Dean’s shoulder, anchor him to reality.

More often, though, Dean was alone.

+

Before, Castiel didn’t have nightmares _per se_. But even an Angel of the Lord can have doubts. 

He never regretted saving Dean or embracing his favoritism for the Winchesters. 

He missed his brothers and sisters, though. He would turn on angel radio and listen to the chatter that reminded him of home. 

More often, though, that only served to underscore his loneliness. 

+

Now, Dean’s nightmares occur less frequently. When they do, he wakes suddenly, hands grasping – 

And Cas is there, a hard line of muscle and bone radiating heat no matter how far away he’s sleeping. 

Usually Cas already has Dean in his arms, holds him to his chest, tells him that everything will be okay. 

_You’re not that animal anymore._

+

Now, Cas can dream, and nightmares can rend his mind, fracturing his very human sleep. When they occur, he wakes up screaming. 

And Dean is there, warm hands, strong arms, soft lips. 

Dean pulls him into his arms and holds him until the fear subsides. Though Cas feels that he deserves punishment, he doesn’t want to lose what he’s gained. 

Dean presses a kiss to the top of his head, tells him that everything will be okay. 

_You’re here, Cas. You’re safe._

+

No matter whose turn it is to dream darkly, they fold into one another, arms and legs entwined, forehead-to-forehead. They tune their breathing, their heartbeats, and they find sleep again. 

In each other, these fallen men make themselves whole. 

+


End file.
